


He Laughs

by AuroraExecution



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Emotions, Explicit Language, Laughter, M/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraExecution/pseuds/AuroraExecution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry suddenly remembers that he's never seen Draco laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Laughs

**Author's Note:**

> This popped out because I wanted to write a fic where what Harry loves most is when Draco isn't beautiful. 

Harry realized one day that he had never seen Draco laugh.

Well, other than the callous, cold-hearted laugh he used when he made fun of the other students at Hogwarts, but that was so very long ago, and not the type of laugh Harry was thinking of. Back in the days of Hogwarts, he supposed Draco must have laughed, for real, with his parents and friends, because that’s what people do with their loved ones. But he, Harry, had been too busy screaming at Draco that neither of them had ever laughed in each other’s presence.

And then the war had happened, and he’d seen Draco cry, once, in an abandoned, haunted lavatory, and somehow the sight was so terribly lonely. Laughter had all but faded away in the years of the war, for all of them, and Harry, thinking back, realized he had stopped laughing then as well.

Once the war ended, everyone threw themselves into rebuilding and healing. It was a time to grieve for those who had been lost, and a time to deal with the remnant anger, but not a time to laugh. The Malfoys had been pardoned, after a long, difficult argument from Harry himself, but had been stripped of all sorts of rights, leaving them basically confined in a house-arrest of sorts. Draco and his mother were allowed to leave the Manor, but any suspicious activities would lead to immediate and strict repercussions. Afterwards, Harry recalled clearly how utterly blank Draco’s expression remained throughout the trial.

But, slowly, everyone had left the war behind. People started smiling again, and parties began reappearing, and eventually laughter spread through the land once more. Even Harry found himself chuckling at Ron’s jokes, or at something Seamus said during their weekly drinking night at the Leaky Cauldron. Yet, in all that time, one Draco Malfoy remained stony-faced and withdrawn.

Harry knew this because Draco had contacted him soon after graduation and asked for his help. In the aftermath of the war, Draco had wanted to rebuild his family to a decent and respected place, nothing as exalted and feared as the Malfoy name was before the war, but at least to the point where he could leave his home without being insulted or attacked. Although Harry knew he and Draco had never been friends in all the many years they had known each other, he suddenly remembered Draco’s reddened face, with puffy eyes and trembling pointy chin, in Myrtle’s lavatory all those years ago, and the fear permeating that face when Harry had cast Sectumsempra. He remembered the absolute terror in Draco’s eyes every time they had met in those days—at the Manor when Draco had stuttered an incoherent response instead of doing what Harry expected and shouting confidently that it was Harry, and in the Fiendfyre, at the end, as Draco, for the first time in Harry’s presence, did something entirely selfless and forced Hermione and Ron to save Goyle first.

It was that terror, cold and childlike and so awfully and completely human, that made Harry consider Draco’s request. After all, Draco was asking him politely, and it was so unlike the Draco he remembered from school. So Harry had agreed, and a civil correspondence had begun between them. Draco had been willing to aid charitable causes, through donation and, once Harry had convinced him over tea one day, volunteer work. As the months turned to years, not only did Draco’s name come to mean penitence and humility throughout the wizarding world, but Draco and Harry had also discovered an awkward sort of friendship.

Sometimes Draco’s real personality still sprung out, quibbling with Harry over silly things and asking petulantly for his way. But these times were rare, and Harry found it generally only happened when Draco was in a particularly relaxed and happy mood. Strange, how Harry had spent so long hating Draco’s spoiled personality, and now that it was dormant, Harry found himself terribly uncomfortable, like something integral was missing. It was his obsession with getting Draco to show his real self more often that changed everything.

Hermione had told him it was like Sixth Year all over again, just less dark. Harry spent all his time following Draco around and trying to figure out why the Slytherin wasn’t reacting, and the rest of the world didn’t understand what was wrong with Harry. But, like Sixth Year, Harry couldn’t help but wonder about it, because Draco had always been a mystery, really. A fickle, abstruse, closed person, and Harry could never leave unsolved puzzles alone.

However, as the time they spent together increased, and as Harry tried harder and harder to get Draco into a good mood to show his petulance again, something else happened as well. Harry found himself thinking of Draco a little too much, and when Draco offered one day to sleep with him, Harry readily agreed.

So began a strange, unhealthy relationship that everyone advised against, whether they were Harry’s or Draco’s friends. Harry knew they were right, as he felt, all the while, that something was wrong. Draco was admittedly an attractive man, but Harry kept returning to the memories of the terrified, human Draco, and not the nearly-robotic version of him in the here and now. Because, regardless of how unkempt Draco was back then, no matter how red or swollen or splotchy, he was, for a moment, beautifully _alive_. And that life was what intrigued Harry the most.

The thoughts grew like a cancer. Day by day, Harry considered it more and more, until finally Draco had had enough, and disappeared back to the Manor, leaving behind only a short letter thanking Harry for his help, and stating that Draco hoped they could maintain their professional relationship. Even the parting note was blank and emotionless.

Which was why, while sitting around later, half-heartedly watching his Muggle telly and trying not to think about Draco’s departure, Harry suddenly thought that he had never seen Draco laugh. Not while they were at Hogwarts, not in and around the war, not when they had been associates or sort-of friends, and not even when they had been lovers. But one thing had changed most dramatically since the Hogwarts days: Harry knew Draco much better now. He had learned, slowly, that Draco simply quarantined all of his emotions into a dark corner of his mind. That the thought of losing his parents to Azkaban still terrified Draco, and it was why he followed the stipulations of his quasi-house arrest. That he no longer trusted anyone outside of a few old Slytherin friends (Goyle and Nott being foremost among these) and his parents, and even _they_ had limited access to Draco’s thoughts.

And then he also remembered that Draco always watched him briefly before going to sleep, and often took responsibility for any negative results of his charity work even when it had been Harry’s idea.

Remembering all this, Harry found himself getting dressed and Apparating to Draco’s room in the Manor.

It was hardly what he expected. Draco was sitting on an ornate settee, staring blankly at the opposite wall, and seemingly trying very hard not to break the expression. When Harry appeared, Draco turned his head, with great strength of will, to look at the intruder.

“Why are you here, Harry?” Draco inquired flatly, his voice slightly more tired than usual, but otherwise managing to maintain his emotionless mask.

And _that_ , Harry realized, was what it had been all along. Draco’s mask, to protect him from a world he thought hated him, to push out the surroundings and let him control himself, when he felt he could no longer control anything else.

“I wanted to see you laugh,” Harry replied then, boldly, because he knew it was the right answer.

Draco started minutely, but quickly collected himself. “Don’t be ridiculous, Harry, please. Go home. I’ll speak with you tomorrow about the event this Tuesday.”

There was a silence.

“I don’t know why you’d trust me with your reputation, your future, and your money, but not with yourself,” Harry said pensively. “I feel like you assume I’m going to throw you away in a few days, but I’m not all so cruel and childish, Draco.”

And something in his words set off a spark, because almost immediately, Harry found himself faced with a furious Draco Malfoy.

“It’s because nothing will _change_ , Harry, why won’t you see that? No matter what I do, I’m going to be alone, because that’s how life _is_! He gave me an order I was expected to fail, and I had to go through with all of it by myself! It was _my_ penitence for my father’s failure, it was _my_ responsibility, and no one else should have been involved!”

“And you expect this to be the same?” replied Harry calmly. “You think that the war was your family’s problem, and you should have to face the consequences by yourself? Have you missed the part where I’ve been willing to help you this whole time?”

“You _have_ , and I understand, but it has to end _some_ time! You want something from me that I don’t think I have, and when you realize I might _never_ have it, you’ll go on with your life! I’m not waiting until then—I’m going to walk out with my pride attached right now!”

“No, you _don’t_ understand!” Harry shouted back at him, secretly feeling proud to have found at least one real emotion of Draco’s. “I just want you to be real, Draco, not some walled-up mannequin of a person!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand! If I stayed with you, it would have just gotten worse! You’re only trying to help me, but I _love_ you, don’t you see? I’ve gone and fucked it all up! Bloody fuck, I didn’t want to even _like_ you, you stupid git, but now I fucking _care_ about you!”

Now he understood. All the things Draco had done, watching Harry sleep and taking responsibility for Harry’s bad ideas, it was because Draco was trying to _care_ about him, albeit subtly. Harry felt like he had never seen Draco more beautiful and full of life, even if his face was discolored with anger, in splotches of pale and red, even if his expression was thunderous and scowling. Even though he wasn’t pretty at all in that moment, he was no longer a fixed-smile doll, and _that_ had been what Harry was looking for all along.

“Fuck, Potter, just leave. Leave. I’ll never bring it up again, and you can—”

And Harry’s arms were around him.

“Shut up, Draco.”

“Fuck. I’m not—it’s not—I’m _not_ fucking crying.”

Harry ignored him fondly.

“It doesn’t matter. I want to see.”

“Why?” demanded Draco incredulously, “Idiot.” Harry chuckled. This was Draco as Harry remembered from way back when.

“Because when you try to protect yourself that much, you lose who you are. _I_ lose who you are.”

“Bloody fuck…” Draco cursed into Harry’s chest, “It’s just, you…and I—”

Harry let Draco cling even more tightly to his neck before continuing.

“Look, Draco, you’re an idiotic berk and tend to care way too much about people who are important to you. How I ended up as one of these people was probably a terrible mistake, but now that we’re here, can’t we keep going?”

Draco’s voice was muffled by Harry’s shoulder. “If we keep going, I’m going to latch on and never let go, you know that, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

“And I’m going to be possessive and jealous and demanding.”

“I know.”

“A-and selfish and nasty. And I’ll probably irritate you a lot.”

“I knew that a _long_ time ago.”

“Prat,” Draco replied, but the hiccup that followed after negated his attempts to look mean.

“Draco,” Harry said, “I’ll be here, even when you’re obnoxious. You know that, right?”

Draco closed his eyes and laughed, like he was surprised that he was laughing again after so long.

“I always knew.”


End file.
